


Impossible

by DustToDust



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustToDust/pseuds/DustToDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason tilts his head and stares at the innocuous post it notes on his fridge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> Title because this is the most vanilla kink sex ever. Something I didn't think possible. Tim is freakin talented. Also, it's for the naughty or nice theme of the 12 Days of JayTim.

Jason tilts his head and stares at the innocuous post it notes on his fridge. Innocent and unassuming if he had any of the damn things in his apartment.

"Naughty or nice?" Jason snorts as he looks at the three yellow notes. Written in a distinctive slant that Jason knows. He tears the last two down, balls them up, and throws them towards the trash can. "What do you think, Replacement?"

He eats his breakfast before packing and relocating. Leaving behind the Naughty tag and whatever bugs Tim had put up in his place. He’s obviously stayed still too long if he’s getting visits at home. It starts with Tim’s weird and annoying little hints that he’s been found, and ends with a nice little chat with the brick wall Bruce calls a face if Jason doesn’t get his ass in gear soon enough.

~

On the scale that is Jason’s life, the weird post it notes rank lower than wondering how many cockroaches died in the oil vat used to fry up his chicken for dinner. Which is much, much lower than waking up tied to a chair and groggy with that fuzzy taste in his mouth that means he was drugged. Or that could just be the fucking _ballgag_ in his mouth.

Jason breathes deep and pushes the grogginess away. He keeps up the appearance that he’s not fully alert as he takes everything in.

He’s in a warehouse. There’s nothing in it as far as he can see, but his vision is rather limited by two industrial looking light stands angled right in his face. The rest of the place is dark, but he knows he’s right because of how the space around him feels. And from how the ground feels gritty and cold under his bare feet.

Jason takes a moment to appreciate how bloody he’s going to beat whoever has him for stripping him naked before tying him up. With some —Jason carefully tenses his muscles and twists— heavy duty restraints that they probably got out of a sex store. He wonders for a second or two if he’s pissed off anyone into the kinky sex stuff before shoving that thought away.

He’s never been all that lucky.

The chair is sturdy and wooden, but not so sturdy that he couldn’t break it. There’s some give to the thing and Jason’s confident he can break the damn thing when his captor shows their face. It’ll be a bitch getting his hands in front of him and having to fight with both his wrists and feet hobbled, but Jason’s done more in worse situations. He groans around the gag. Letting his head loll back drunkenly on his neck. Making a rather nice production out of wincing at the light.

There’s a moment of pointed silence before he hears the scuff of a shoe against the concrete. Behind him on his left. Hard soled and, yes, there’s a click to it. Fancy ass business shoes. So he’s likely dealing with the guy in charge and not some bruisers. Awesome. Now all he has to do it-

"Quit pretending," fingers press lightly against the side of his neck. Checking his pulse and Jason completely fails to lash out because he’d be _gaping_ stupidly if his mouth were capable of it. "I know you’re not _that_ out of it."

_What the ever loving fuck?_

Tim walks around until he’s facing Jason. He’s in his public persona. Expensive looking suit and tie with move star perfect hair and smile as he reaches for the side of his face. Fingers tugging and undoing the buckle holding the gag in place. He’s careful as he removes it and the world that had been swimming dangerously around Jason rights itself. He’s obviously been out of it for longer than he thought if Tim is already on rescue.

Jason works his jaw, feeling the slight ache. Tim’s still got that good ol’ boy smile on though and that’s off. Jason frowns up at him when the man just stands there and does nothing else. Jason’s missing something. He knows he is and the feeling is pissing him off.

"Well?" Jason snarls, tilting his head up to glare at Tim. "You going to untie me or do you need a few more minutes to fill the spank bank up?"

"I guess that’s one way of putting it," Tim smiles and it’s just a watt or two off from _Brucie_. Jason’s wondering where the camera is, because he damn well knows there isn’t anyone else in the building but them. Tim reaches out and presses a finger to the side of Jason’s mouth. Slowly rubbing at the area the gag had rubbed against."Though I was hoping for something a bit more than a _look_ , Red Hood."

Jason stares. He’s fucking speechless because there isn’t anyone else in the place and he’s sure there is no hidden camera anywhere. But here he is. Naked, tied up, and getting hit on by the darling of the city Timothy Drake-Wayne. Jason’s not a lucky man, but he is a good target for when the universe needs something to kick and this is just twisted enough to fit the bill.

"What do you say, Hood?" Timothy asks. His voice light and playful even as he brings the gag back up. Pressing it just under his chin. "Naughty or nice?"

It’s an honest question. One that Jason knows is all his to make. Tim would back down in a second if Jason says the word. It’s all there in a flash. Tim’s normal intensity peeking out from behind the arrogantly rich mask.

"Well, Mr. Wayne," Tim doesn’t so much as show a twitch of the flinch Jason knows he gets over that title, "considering what I intend to do to that pretty little face of yours if you don’t untie me right the fuck now. I’d have to say," Tim waits, his act not faltering one bit. Jason can say ‘nice’ and get out of these ties. Get his clothes back and take the pretentious little shit to the ground for this stunt. He could, but that wouldn’t be as interesting int he long run. Jason grins and loves the way the word feels as he shapes it out with his lips and tongue. "Naughty."

The smile that spreads over Tim’s face is actually a leer. One of those smug looking, proprietorial looks perfected by the rich and aimed at ‘those unfortunate souls’ that always made Jason’s knuckles itch at the events Bruce used to force him to go to. The gag is pressed to his mouth and Jason thinks about refusing it. About making Tim work to put it in, but that’s something that Timothy Drake-Wayne isn’t capable of doing. He’s a rich boy who pays for muscle and rarely ever uses it himself. The buckle clinks and Timothy smooths the straps into place as Jason tongues the ball. Tasting a hint of salt.

Timothy bends down and reaches behind Jason. “You just let me know if that changes.”

A small device is slipped into one of his hands. Round and cool with a soft plastic button on it. Jason thumbs it and considers dropping the thing. Timothy drops him first. Pulling back a little and Jason hears a click before the back of the chair _drops_. Damn near making him drop the device anyway on accident.

"I had this custom made you know?" Timothy says with obvious relish. Another click brings the lower part Jason’s feet are attached to up, and Jason hadn’t paid much attention to the way his legs were spread apart until they’re up in the air. "What’s on the market just wasn’t my style. I contacted a rather ingenious man in China for this, and I really do think he outdid himself."

There are actual fucking chains dangling down from the dark and Jason’d laugh if he wasn’t sure he’d choke. Timothy is attaching the chains to the- Well, it’s not a seat anymore. Jason doesn’t know what to call it really. Timothy chatters away about rare wood and exotic finishes. Throwing around price quotes that’d make Jason sneer if he were listening to any of it. If he were paying attention to anything but the almost clinical touch of Timothy’s hands.

Accidental and uncaring on Timothy’s part, but ruthlessly calculated and intent on Tim’s. They map out in brief touches the map of scars that Jason knows mark his body. A press of the finger on the edge of a bullet scar, a caress down the center of a shiny burn patch. He touches them all once and only once. That touch of Tim behind the prattling rich boy is enough to get Jason warmed up.

"It cost a grand more, maybe two, but," Timothy flattens his hand on Jason’s calf. Slowly stroking it and bringing Jason’s mind back to what he’s saying. Timothy is looking at Jason like he’s seen the man look at cars. Fully appreciative of the lines of something that’s clearly an _object_. "It’s so worth it."

Jason glares up at Timothy. He can make noise around the gag in his mouth, but he refuses to on principal. Any complaining he does will sound pathetic. Timothy is going to have to _make_ him lose it enough to do that. Tim knows that, but Timothy continues to just look and touch. Oblivious to the way Jason strains up against the bonds. Unable to get too far. Tim did good with them.

Timothy steps in close, between Jason’s legs and carelessly rests a hand low on his stomach thumb brushing the base of Jason’s dick. A callous catching on the sensitive skin in a cruel tease. “You look good like this. Tied up, gagged.”

The whole thing he’s on creaks as Jason flexes. Hips attempting to thrust up, to get a bit more contact, and failing. The straps holding him down bite into his flesh keeping him still. Jason breathes out harshly and fingers the soft button in his hand.

"Hm," Timothy hums tunelessly and just watches. The same fucking smile he gives the camera as he spouts bullshit fixed firmly on his face. His eyes are distant and it almost looks like he’s not even thinking about how he’s got Jason spread out before him. His hand moves down slowly. Fingers dragging over Jason’s dick before wrapping loosely around it. Pumping slow and light to get Jason hard, before letting go. Skimming his hand up the inside of Jason’s thigh to rest on his bent knee.

"There. Much better," Jason gives Timothy a dirty look because that false cheer is just a little too close to Brucie. Timothy is unrepentant as he reaches inside his suit jacket. Reaching for an inside pocket and pulling out two items to toss on Jason’s chest. A condom and small tube of lube that’s obnoxiously bright with pictures of fucking _fruit_ on it. "I think I’ll enjoy this a lot."

It’s another question, and Jason’s a little amused despite his quickly growing impatience. His cheeks burn from the way his lips want to twist into a snarl as Timothy goes back to tracing patterns on his skin. Jason want to punch that smug smile off of his face as he waits for an obvious countdown. Jason moves his thumb off the button and does nothing.

Timothy takes his sweet time reaching for the lube. A fake fruity scent fills the air as he snaps it open and pours the vaguely pink lube on his hand. “They had cherry you know, but,” an edge flickers through his smile as Tim laughs through Timothy, “I’m reasonably sure that it’d just be false expectations.”

Low, Jason narrows his eyes up at the bastard, and also corny as fuck. Jason adds it to the list of things that Tim’s going to pay for later. The end total of the damage owed is going to vary depending on how quickly the Replacement gets onto the good stuff. Going by the smug grin Timothy gives him as slick fingers trail down the crack of his ass to circle his hole, Jason’s reasonably sure there won’t be much to keep him from breaking a few ribs. Not fingers though, Jason’s breath hitches as Timothy slowly slides two fingers in, definitely not fingers.

There’s a burn to it despite the amount of lube Timothy used. Too much, Jason can feel it dripping down his ass. It’s an uncomfortable feeling that’s lost in the way Timothy moves his fingers. Plunging them deep before pulling them out slow. The burns the good kind that leaves Jason wanting more a lot faster than is good for him. Jason’s teeth sink into the gag as Timothy crooks his fingers and finds his fucking prostate on the first goddam try. Jason closes his eyes and despite his best efforts a noise makes it’s mangled way through the gag.

"Right there?" Timothy pulls his fingers out and presses in again. Angling them to hit that spot again and Jason shakes as the man exploits the fuck out of it. Straining against the straps holding him down. Timothy laughs and eases back, eases his fingers right out and Jason protests before he can stop himself. Three fingers touch him. A warning before they’re pressed in. Spreading and stretching him even more. "Pity I’m on the clock here. I can’t do even a fraction of what I want with you. Long lunches just aren’t as long as they should be."

Timothy sounds as regretful as a guy turning down a second slice of cake. The condom scratches against his chest and Jason opens his eyes to watch Timothy bring it up to his mouth with his free hand. Jason doesn’t protest the fingers leaving this time. Not when they go to the belt that probably cost as much as one of Jason’s guns. He doesn’t drop his pants because that would obviously wrinkle. He moves his clothing around just enough to pull his own dick out. Jason can’t see anything from the way he’s tied up, but Timothy’s eyes slit shut in obvious pleasure. And the sounds. Faint, slick, and obscene.

Jason’s dick twitches as Timothy lets out a tiny little moan. His blue eyes blinking back open to fix on Jason. His lips curl back up into that picture perfect smile as he leans in closer. Fitting himself between Jason’s bound legs, the space precisely calculated so that Timothy fits perfectly. Bracing himself on Jason’s shoulders and looking down at him. Jason growls, a wet sound, as he feels the man’s dick nudge against him before sliding in with a thick moan.

"So many things," Timothy says as he rocks a little. Letting Jason feel the stretch a bit more fully and fuck if Jason doesn’t mind one damn bit. "So little time."

Jason adds another tick to the corny as fuck list and almost forgets it as Timothy pulls back a little before snapping his hips forward. Hard. Done with slow now, thank fuck. Jason groans and swallows hard as Timothy keeps that pace. Pulling out halfway and fucking into him hard over and over again.

His jaw hurts from clenching, from not being able to talk, because he wants so bad to taunt the man sweating and groaning over him. Get his blood up and go even harder. He can fucking take it, the set up almost demands more than what Timothy’s given him. The button creaks in Jason’s hands. His finger tightening on the plastic body but avoiding the button. Tim pushes himself up, angles himself enough. Just right, and Jason’s shouting around the gag. Shuddering as Timothy brushes it every few thrusts. And it’s good. Almost good enough to get him off.

Jason groans and tenses deliberately listening to the choked moan that gets from Timothy. That gets him fucked a little harder, but not the reach around he really, really needs. Jason doesn’t think he’s going to get that right now though. Not from Timothy Wayne-Drake whose eyes are screwed shut, and mouth gaping open as he comes undone. Moving through his own orgasm before slowing to a stop. His head hanging down as he pants and ignores the pathetic noises Jason makes in protest.

"Oh, that was nice," Timothy laughs and looks up. His mask doesn’t slide even under Jason’s glare when He straightens up and pulls out carefully. Hands going down to fix himself up. Blue eyes raking down Jason’s body to his aching dick. He then makes a show out of checking his clunky watch. "Ah, where does the time go."

Jason goes stiff and tries to growl a warning, but it just comes out as wet a pathetic as every other sound he’s made. Timothy gives him a wink and steps back. His suit immaculate as he strolls casually away. “Well, I had fun. I’ll see you around, Red Hood.”

That son of a bitch. Sharp pain shoots through Jason’s jaw and he jerks hard against the ties as Timothy’s footsteps fade. They’re good and sturdy, but he’ll get them undone. And then he’s going to hunt down the fucking Replacement and-

There’s a loud pop and Jason freezes as the button he forgot about cracks in his hand. Something smooth falling out and Jason nearly cuts his damn finger open on the sharp edge. Jason maps out the size of it and then sets to cutting through the straps around his wrists. He’s got a hard on that need taking care of and a damn good revenge plan to get started on.


End file.
